Sweet Caroline
by S. Place
Summary: This one was abandoned bc I'm a piece but guess who's rewriting. (It's me, in case you were wondering.) Stay patient, booties.
1. Chapter 1: Ballsy

This is a re-write, I'll be updating chapters as I go. Please be patient with me. Also I'm considering maybe possibly writing a preface, bc, as you know if you read the original, there's some business in a carriage before the family arrives at French court. It's not majorly important, it just sort of helps with the development of a few characters. Anywho, thanks for hanging out. Stay golden.

* * *

"Caroline, do be careful. We can't have a bruised princess," my mother dictates. It's been quite snowy in France as of late, and snow brings ice. Straightening my cloak, I watch my carriage-mates pour out one-by-one. Mother first, succeeded by my ladies in order of their peerage: Alice, Marie, then Jeanne. Finally, my turn comes. I'm so clumsy, there's no way this will end well. I take a final deep breathe, and step out.

As is to be expected, my world begins to turn. I close my eyes and clench my fists, praying that my hood may save me from the worst of the damage when my head meets the brick.

After what seems like ages, I realize that I have stopped moving. There are large, warm hands centered on the small of my back. Thank God for guards, I suppose. I open my eyes.

"Princess, are you alright?" he asks. Louis Conde is most certainly not a guard, but he is the one who saved me. It takes a moment to gather that I am in the arms of a Prince with more power than I, and I quickly straighten myself.

"Prince Conde, I do apologize. I hope you'll forgive my clumsiness," I curtsy. Several feet away, my mother is hiding her embarrassment behind the hood of her coat, swatting as my ladies giggle. Conde opens his mouth, as if to pardon me, but is interrupted by my father's gruff voice.

"Yes, Prince Conde. She does apologize," Conde stiffens, "and you'll forgive my daughter's lack of stability." He shoots me a glare.

"Of course, Majesty," Conde stares at the ground, as if he were a dog and my father were his master. This strikes me, because our island nation wouldn't stand a chance against his, especially considering Louis's noble friends. "I'm afraid I'll have to dismiss myself. The King has requested my presence."

"Well, your King can wait. This King," referring to himself, "has a job for you. How I have missed you and your father. Somebody escort them to their quarters," my father snaps, only taking his eyes off of Conde for a moment, and we're suddenly being pushed toward the castle doors.

* * *

Finally, after a million steps and a maze of walls, we come to a wide hallway. The walls are lined with portraits of forgotten leaders. Between each set of portraits lies an intricate wood-panel door with metal ornaments. It's easy to tell that the chandeliers (three, running down the center of the ceiling) haven't been lit in ages. We've quite literally been shoved into an unused corner of the palace. We are a burden to be ignored.

"Majesty," a guard gestures toward my mother, "you and your husband will be at the end of the hall on the left; Princess, you'll take the next one. Ladies, your rooms are on the right, in no specific order. The Princes will be on left in these first two rooms." By the time he finishes, my mother is already slamming her door in the usual dramatic fashion. My brothers follow suit, albeit much more politely. I dismiss my ladies (though Marie stays and makes small talk with the guard) and walk to my door; nearly twice my height and with an extravagant ornamental tree on the outside. I place my palm on the handle, and push it open.

The dusty room, which was clearly forgotten in the last renovation, is unsurprisingly compact. The first thing I notice is the balcony and the windows on the far wall. They could stand to have a cloth taken to them, but the bay-shaped chapel windows allow for just the right amount of light. In the center of the beveled diamond windows is a similar-looking door. Just outside sits a concrete balcony, overlooking the forest, the stables, and, distantly, a village.

At the left side of the room is a small vanity area, next to which my several trunks are stacked. The shelving system that runs behind the vanity and along the wall is entirely empty, aside from three untitled books on the top shelf. The opposite wall is home to a very disproportionate king-sized bed, upon which a pile of old blankets and furs is lain. There is also a smaller door by the bed, which I discover holds a makeshift dressing room.

"Princess?" a small voice calls through the door.

"Come in!" I shout back. I turn to see a small, red-headed girl in a servant uniform, struggling to hold a burlap package and a gold-colored hat box. "Who are you?" I ask, not intending to sound rude.

"My name is Isabelle, Princess," she curtsies. I walk toward her to help with the bundle, and she flinches.

"I promise not to hurt you, Isabelle."

"I believe you, Princess," she smiles, quick to change the subject, "Your mother sent these."

"My mother. Of course," I mumble, noticing the developing red mark on Isabelle's face. She walks toward my bed and sets down the parcels.

"If you'll have a seat, Princess, I can do your hair," she gestures toward the vanity.

"Please, call me Caroline," I request, making my way toward the seat.

Over the next hour or so, Isabelle tries several braids on my hair while she fills me in on the castle affairs. She eventually settles for a basic French braid, which leads to several bad puns. After the juvenile laughter, Isabelle unlaces me and asks me to undress while she pulls out my dress for the ball.

The gown stuns me. The floor-length skirt is in the same baby pink shade as the bodice, with just a small amount of added body. The torso is lined in curving bones. It showcases hand-sewn gems above the belt and down the lace sleeves. Isabelle brings me a pair of flat, skin-colored shoes and directs me back to my chair, where she reveals what was in the box.

Even more beautiful than the gown, my grandmother's tiara now sits atop my head. The sharp gold design is made softer by the pearls implanted every few centimeters. The combs sit invisibly in my hair, and the shape does not interfere with my pun-filled hair style.

"You've seen this before?" Isabelle asks.

"Yes. It belonged to my grandmother, she left it to me when she died."

Our silence returns, as Isabelle reddens my lips and pats my cheeks, running pearl earrings to match the tiara through my lobes. We hear a knock at the door.

"Princess, your escort has arrived." I nod to Isabelle and thank her, before I link arms with the castle guard. He guides me silently down the winding staircases. The violin music getting louder and louder as we get closer to the bottom is my only proof that we are, in fact, making any progress. Much to my surprise, I am met by Conde's smiling face at the end of the stairs. The guard bows and excuses himself.

"Caroline," Conde bows, extending his hand. I curtsy to him and gently place my fingers in his palm, "Now, why would a king who hates me, ask me to escort his most beautiful daughter to the ball?"

"I'm in his only daughter," I giggle, before turning serious, "Did he really ask you?"

"Remember when he said he 'had a job' for me? This was the job, though I don't really see anything fun as work," I blush. It's been 10 years since we've seen each other and already he's playing me.

"If I remember correctly, you were quite the shotty dancer when we were young," I tease.

"That's because you were ten years old, Linny," I shudder at the nickname, "You thought all dancing was bad."

"No, you were just terrible," I jokingly retort, as we begin to twirl. Moments later, we are drawn from our trance by the blowing of a trumpet. Louis and I turn to see both of our fathers standing in front of the thrones, center of attention. My father smirks as Louis's appears to have broken a sweat. They make direct eye contact with us. My father begins.

"Citizens of France. Visitors from Navarre. My own countrymen. Today, we come together to celebrate a glorious event. As many of you know, the King of Navarre owes me quite the debt," never one to skip the point of a conversation, my father gestures toward King Charles, "Also as many of you know," this time, he gestures toward the three people from the Île de Ré actually in attendance who are standing together (my mother and brothers), I am a gracious King," he stops abruptly, waiting for Charles to continue for him.

"The King of the Île de Ré has...graciously...agreed to pardon me from my debt," he looks pleadingly at my father, and receives no mercy, "In exchange for the forgiveness of my arrears, we have...arranged-"

"A marriage!" my father bursts, "Don't be coy, Charles. You know, in the beginning, I had planned on my daughter marrying King Charles himself!" I begin to shake, as Louis steps away from me, "Fortunately, my lovely, lovely wife helped me see. I couldn't marry off our only daughter to a man older than me! So I've settled for the next best man: Charles's son, Prince Louis of Conde." The guests begin to clap. "Congratulations to the happy couple!"

The music starts again, and the people return to their merriment. I can feel my face flushing and tears fighting to break free. I turn to Louis.

"Louis, I-"

"We'll speak later. Excuse me," he says, before exiting the ballroom and leaving me alone in the center.


	2. Chapter 2: I Want to Know You

Ch.2: I Want to Know You

"Father, you can't do this!"

"Firstly, you do not raise your voice at me. Second, why not? You were practically fawning all over the boy at the ball. I'd be surprised if you kept your virtue intact until the wedding!"

"You can think as poorly of me as you please but it's not fair of you to drag others into this. Your quarrel is with Charles, not Louis! Louis doesn't deserve this."

"I'm giving you exactly what you want, yet still you complain?"

"I'm not against this for myself. I haven't got a problem with spending the rest of my life with Louis Conde, but he might have one with me. You'd know that if you bothered to ask!"

"Kings don't need permission. I could make you marry your brother if that was what I wanted! He properly fits your standards."

"What do you have against me, father? You speak as if I am some raging harlot! Well, I assure you, my virtue is just as intact as your ego."

"Physically, perhaps, but servants talk and I know that if it weren't for me your purity would be nonexistent. I know you let a kitchen boy put his filthy hands all over you. I know you were prepared to allow him to do quite a bit more to you but his mother found out and forbade it."

"I-I...I didn't know you knew about that," I whisper, tearing up.

"You will marry Conde or I will assure that you never marry at all. You may be pure in body but you are vile in your soul," he spits as he walks away. I break down in tears. I have only a second to myself before I feel a hand on my arm, pulling me through the castle. I look up, and it's Louis. We both stay completely silent. Up the stairs, down the hall, up the stairs, down the hall, over and over again. Louis pulls me into my own room and slams the door. I can't look him in the eye when I speak.

"I'm so sorry, Prince Conde," I sob, "I tried to stop him but he wouldn't listen to me."

"Shhh..." he pulls me to his chest, "I heard everything."

"If you don't want to marry me," I pull away, calming down, "I can come clean about the...kitchen boy..."

"Caroline, I don't believe for a second that you were a willing participant in anything that boy did. You were young, and couldn't defend yourself."

"I know that, but the world doesn't have to. You can be free to marry who you please, and-"

"What if I want to marry you?" he mutters.

"What?" I ask in disbelief.

"I want to marry you," he reaffirms with confidence.

"You...you're sure?"

"Of course I am. I would like nothing more. I was going to wait until we got to know one another a little better, but we can just...skip a few steps. We'll learn as we go."

"But what if we hate each other?" I smile, tears finally drying.

"Now, Caroline, I doubt that'll happen."

Louis leaves soon after that, as it would be inappropriate for him to stay in my room much past dark. After he leaves, I blow out my candles and slide out of my dress and underclothes and into bed. The bed is huge, relaxing. I sink into it, feeling the fabrics on my bare skin. It's mainly quilts and luxury furs. I run my fingers over the fur and lull myself to sleep.

* * *

"Caroline? Caroline!" I wake up to my ladies sitting around me on my bed.

"What? What's the matter?" I ask, sitting up and pulling the fur over my chest.

"We heard about the engagement!" Jeanne informs me.

"We actually heard about it yesterday but you left quite quickly, so we thought it best to leave you for a while," Alice says.

"I know it's not any of our business, but..." Marie starts, "we saw Conde sneaking out of the room quite late last night, and you_are_ in a certain state of undress..."

"Oh, no! We didn't...do...anything. Just talked," I confirm, "Enough about me, though, I saw you dancing with that guard last night. What's that about?"

"His name is Edward. He's from a small town in the North of France. He joined the military-"

"Marie!" I groan.

"What?" she asks.

"I don't care about his life story, I want to know what _you_ think!"

"Oh. Well he's sooo-"

KNOCK KNOCK

"Who is it?" I shout, annoyed.

"It's your mother, and you'd do best to not speak to me in that tone," my ladies stand and curtsy, "Conde wants to take a walk. He said to tell you 'you don't have to come if you're not feeling well enough,' but you do have to go. Get dressed. I brought you a new coat," she says, throwing the coat on the bed. She leaves. My ladies all smile at me.

"What?" I ask.

"A walk!" Jeanne yells, "A walk!"

"Yes, Jeanne. A walk. Just a walk," I say, climbing out bed.

"I'll get the corset," Marie announces, walking to my trunk. I pull on my underskirt and chemise, and lift my arms for the corset. Bracing myself on the bed frame, I allow the ladies to lace and tighten it, before pulling on the cream-colored gown Alice pulled from my trunk. Jeanne braids my hair to the side. Finally, I put on my new coat, just a few shades darker than my dress with fur strips every few inches. The ladies wish me luck, and I find my way to the entrance of the castle, and Louis.

"You look stunning, Caroline," he says, taking my hand. He pulls me close and whispers in my ear, "See those guards over there?" I nod, "Your father sent them to chaperon us. Now, I know you're one for defying authority, so what do you say we lose them?" I nod again.

"How?" I smirk.

"We're going riding-"

"It's the middle of winter, we'll freeze!"

"I know, but I have an idea. We're going riding. The guards are to stay just in sight of us at all times. On the path, there's a sharp turn. We take it and make a run for it. The guards won't know we've gone until they come 'round the corner, and we'll be gone. We'll spend the day in a small cottage in the forest."

"You're sneaky," I say, "Let's do it."

* * *

"I can't believe that worked," he replies, tying the horse to a post. Distracted, he drops the rope, and looks at me, "How do you feel about risks?"

"Is the risk going to kill me?" I ask.

"Probably not."

"Then I think risks are a good thing."

"Good," he smirks, and swats the horse's behind.

"Louis!" I yell.

"What? Your father will send out a search party by morning and we'll be back at the castle in no time," he says, still smiling.

"You're so bad," I scoff, and walk into the cottage. I take it in as Louis lights the fireplace. It's small, only one room. There is a pile of quilts and furs one corner, opposite the fireplace. Other than that, only cooking supplies are in the room. I turn around, and find Louis standing by the fireplace with a bottle in his hands, "What's that?"

"Wine. Quite a few bottles, actually," he looks at me, "Would you like some?"

"Yes, please." He pours the wine into two simple tankards, and passes me one. It's at this point, I realize how nervous I am. I'm alone with Louis in the middle of the woods until at least morning.

"You might want to take your coat off, it's a small cottage and the fire is pretty big. It may get quite warm," he suggests. I sigh and roll my eyes. After a second, I drink all of my wine in one swift sip, and take my coat off. Louis chuckles, "You know, there's nothing to be nervous about. I won't make you do anything you don't want to do."

"That's the problem," I sigh, "It's not you I'm worried about."

"Oh, really?" he smirks, "What are you going to do, pin me down?" I sigh again, and pour myself more wine. I take a sip, "Caroline, it's not anything to be embarrassed about."

"Well," I start, chugging another cup of wine. I'm beginning to feel it's effects, "I'm about to make a mess of things. Untie this, please." I turn my back to him, and he unlaces my dress. I pull it off swiftly, revealing just my corset and underskirt.

"Caroline, you don't have to-"

"I know. It's just really hot," I say. This time, he goes for the bottle. I'm making him nervous.

* * *

One bottle of wine later, we sit in the pile of blankets. Apparently, wine causes people to want to sit in their underwear, because not long after he started drinking, he started removing clothes, layer by layer.

Passing the second bottle back and forth, we talk about anything we can think of.

"When is your birthday?" Louis asks me.

"21st of May, yours?"

"7 May 1530."

"1530?"

"Yes. You were born in 1540, I know. It's quite the gap." We're silent for a moment, "How many children would you like?"

"As many as I can have. You?"

"Oh, at least 2000," he jokes. Then, he rolls to look at me, "I'll have as many children as you want. Boys, girls, anything. As long as they have your eyes."

"Why my eyes?"

"Because they're striking. I know why you like emeralds so much. They match your eyes." We smile at each other.

"Well I hope they have your hair. And may they be blessed with your tanned skin so that they may play in the sunlight without being burnt to a crisp," I laugh.

"Caroline?" Louis asks.

"Yes?"

"We're going to rule someday."

"I know."

"What if we mess it up?"

"Have you ever been to Pert, Louis?"

"No, why?"

"It would take a lot of work to make it worse."

For a moment, there was silence. For a moment, that was fine. But after a moment, Louis kissed me.


	3. Chapter 3: You're Still the One

Ch. 3: You're Still the One

"Good morning," Louis says as I open my eyes.

"Good morning," I sigh, smiling. I stretch my arms out and feel a fur rub against my bare stomach. I sit up quickly, "Where are my clothes?"

"Calm d-" Louis starts.

"Did we..." I stutter, he nods, "Oh my...I'm so sorry, Louis, I..."

"What are you talking about? Why are you apologizing?"

"You must think I'm some kind of...loose-"

"Don't even say that," he cuts me off, "I don't think any differently of you. Your choices are your own, and they do not make you less of a person."

I smile at him. We both dress in silence. When I'm completely clothed, I turn to find Louis staring at me.

"What is it?" I ask.

"I...I got you something," he tells me. I'm immediately weary.

"Louis, you shouldn't have gotten me anything, I-"

"I did, though. What's an engagement without an engagement ring?" he beams. Then he pulls out the most gorgeous ring I've ever seen. It's gold, with a roughly-cut triangular diamond set at the front.

"Louis, it's beautiful!" I gasp.

"It was my mother's, and my grandmother's before her. When the eldest son in my family reaches wedding age, it is gifted to him. I hope the tradition may continue with us," he explains, while slipping the ring onto my finger. I lean in and gently kiss him. We hear horses whinny outside.

* * *

"If they are in there, Caroline is to be returned to the castle immediately. Conde comes with me," my father barks.

"What is he going to do to you?" I ask Louis frantically.

"Don't worry about it, you go back to the castle," he assures me, but I see the fear on his face. He kisses me on the forehead, and pushes me out the door. As soon as I see my father, I know it won't be good. He walks to me and before I can defend myself or my fiance, he knocks me onto my back, in the snow.

"Whore," he spits at me, "Take her!" he orders the men behind him. More shocked than in pain, I let myself be pulled into the empty carriage. The carriage is driven back to the castle.

* * *

"How does your father expect you to get married with this gargantuan mark on your face?" Jeanne exclaims, trying to cover my bruise.

"If only you were already Queen..." Marie mumbles.

"How would that help anything?" Alice asks.

"Assaulting the Queen is a crime. She could have him imprisoned for ages."

"Or drawn and quartered," I add. My hatred for my father grows. Not for me, but because I know he is hurting Louis. Louis doesn't deserve this.

"You can have your father dealt with after your coronation. For now, you worry about your wedding," my mother announces, bursting in.

"Mother?" I question her, confused.

"Your father has ruined the kingdom built by mine. I want him out of the picture. However, you cannot rule until you wed, so killing him would be useless. The wedding will be tomorrow, that servant girl, the one with the red hair-"

"Isabelle," I interject.

"Is bringing up your dress. It really is beautiful, I think you'll love it," she finishes, walking toward the door.

"What about Father?" I ask.

"You leave him to me," she smirks evilly.

"Your mother scares me," Marie whispers.

"Well, it looks like we've got a wedding to get ready for."

* * *

This one's pretty short, sorry guys! I'm suffering from severe writer's block. Also, if anybody is wondering what the outfits or anything else looks like for any of the events in this fic, I have Pinterest links to most of them and notes for any alterations to make it more period-appropriate, so just PM me if you want any of that stuff. Thanks, dolls.


	4. Chapter 4: Oh, Happy Day

Ch. 4: Oh, Happy Day

"Princess? Princess, wake up," Isabelle says, lightly pushing at my shoulder, "I've sent other servants to wake your ladies and help them get dressed. They should be in any moment."

"Thank you, Isabelle," I sit up. She hands me a glass of water, and I sip it as she goes to my dressing room and pulls out my underclothes. I stand, and she helps me into them. My ladies enter as Isabelle laces my corset.

"Has the gown arrived yet?" Jeanne asks.

"Yes, madame, it's in the closet. The Princess hasn't seen it yet, though." The three of them go to look at it, and I hear them excitedly talking about how wonderful it is. "You ready, Princess?"

"I am," I lie. Seeing the dress makes it real. I want it to be real, it's just all happening so quickly. Isabelle disappears into the closet, and returns with the gown. The stark white dress truly is stunning, with a skirt round and wide enough to fit all five women in the room underneath it. The whole thing is overlain with lace. The upper chest and shoulders are covered by lace as well. Isabelle pins my hair up and covers the hand-shaped bruise on my cheek, and finally adds my tiara. I turn to look at my ladies, and see that they are all wearing emerald dresses (in different styles) to match my tiara.

"It's time, Caroline," Isabelle smiles. I walk out the door, following closely behind my ladies. We stop when we reach the ballroom, standing behind a line of people. At the front, I see Louis. He turns to see me, but his father stops him.

Finally, the doors open, and the orchestra begins to play, and the line files in. First, my parents and Louis's father, followed by my brothers, the King Francis and Queen Mary (who I have yet to meet), my ladies, and myself. We all walk toward the front of the room, where the Pope stands. Louis is standing nearest him, while the French and Pertian nobility look on. Our families stand closest to the aisle.

I wasn't really nervous until I saw Louis. My heart begins to pound, my legs quiver. I apparently lingered in the back for just a moment to long, as Isabelle, who was holding the door, cleared her throat. I begin what seems like an eternal trek down my wedding aisle. I know I should focus on my fiance, but I can't help but notice that either side of the walkway is sprinkled with deep, red rose petals. I turn my head to face our respective nobilities, his on the left, and mine on the right. They all seem indifferent. At the end of the aisle, just before the steps, stands Louis's father on the left. He smiles, though his eyes tell a story of regret. I shoot him an apologetic smile, and he nods in understanding. I face my own family, next. My brothers look at me as if I'm lost. So young to realize that our father will do anything he wants if they upset him. My mother, next to them, is stone-faced as usual, save for an uncharacteristic tear dripping out. She immediately wipes it, and gives me a small smile. My father, finally. Beaming from eye to eye, he stares fervently at me. You'd never notice that he wasn't entirely ecstatic. I look into his soul, and feel him daring me to make a mistake so he can punish me. At long last, I reach the steps. I glide up gracefully, and stand in front of the man to be my husband. He takes my hands, and the Pope begins his words.

* * *

"Congratulations!"

"About time you wed, Prince Conde!"

"It was a beautiful ceremony."

"So, will you begin trying for children immediately?"

These and their variations are all we here for the rest of the night. Louis and I stand together, dance together, sit together, even hold hands. Still, both of us stay completely silent in regard to the other. Eventually, the guests leave and the servants begin to leave. My ladies retire to their beds, our families close behind. As if saving the best for last, the King and Queen of France (and Scotland) approach us, just before we go to bed.

"Congratulations, cousin," Francis announces. I curtsy as they approach, "Thank you, Princess Conde, but this is a casual setting. There is no need." I nod at him, but am speechless. It's the first time all night I've heard my new name. Princess Caroline Conde of Pert. Now I'm in line for the French throne as well, albeit distantly. In fact, unless an entire family dies, I'll never sit upon the French throne. I return to the conversation.

"I am impressed with your Father, Louis. The ceremony was absolutely breathtaking," Mary tells him. I didn't know Charles had any hand in the wedding, but I must remember to thank him.

"Thank you," Louis starts, then looks down to me, leaning sleepily against his shoulder, "It means very much to me that the two of you could attend our wedding. I do think Caroline and I should retire," he smiles, "I fear she might fall asleep standing."

"Oh, we understand perfectly. A wedding is hard work," Mary interjects.

"Conde, I'm sorry, but I must ask that the two of you come with Mary and I," Francis whispers, suddenly concerned. I jolt upright, fear penetrating me. Louis rubs the small of my back.

"Is something wrong, Francis?" he asks.

"Just, please. I promise you'll both be better off knowing." Francis leads us out the ballroom doors, where servants stand with coats for the four of us. Louis makes sure mine is wrapped tightly around me before even looking at his. Outside, there are two horses.

"I apologize that we'll have to ride, I forgot to commission a carriage for the night," Francis explained. In the dark, I notice Francis and Mary smiling excitedly at one another. They're up to something. Louis helps me onto the horse, then climbs on and sits behind me. I know it's unladylike to ride anything but sidesaddle, but it's just so uncomfortable. I don't notice I've done anything abnormal until I feel the horse's fur on my thighs, and Louis chuckles at me.

"The Queen did it, too," he whispers in my ear, assuring me that I'm not doing anything to embarrass him. He wraps his arms around me and takes the reigns, and we follow Francis and Mary into the dark.

* * *

We must not have ridden for more than twenty minutes, but I managed to doze off. I awake just as the horses stop, and see only blackness. We dismount, and I lean into Louis's warm chest, waiting for the King and Queen to say something. They walk to us, and we stand in silence for a moment, all of us looking the same direction into the nothingness.

"I wish we could be here in the daytime, the dark really doesn't do it justice," Mary announces, and I look up at Louis, confused.

"Look closely," he tells me, "your eyes will adjust in a moment." I squint, and squint, and squint. Finally, after what seems like uncomfortable ages, I see it. Unable to speak, I gasp and cover my mouth.

Before us, about half a mile away, stands a palace. Not really a palace, per se, but a giant house. I now understand why Mary wishes it were daytime, because I can't make out any details of what I am sure is the most beautiful home I've ever seen.

"The property has this house, and just about a mile off to the West is a vineyard, and a stable to the East. A few miles South, there are four smaller houses to use as you wish," Francis begins, "we made the announcement this morning that if any servants wanted to jump ship, they could. They'll arrive in the morning. It's only six of them, but the two of you don't strike me as people who'd want many more."

"Thank you, cousin," Louis says, placing a hand on the King's shoulder, "And you too, Mary. I'm sure you had a hand in this."

"Just repaying a debt," Francis announces, "I hope that when the two of you must decide whether to live here or in Pert, you choose here. At least until your coronation."

"Well, when you look at the potential living arrangements in Pert, this is definitely a first choice," I mumble tiredly.

"Alright. We'll leave you, now," Francis smiles, helping Mary onto the horse, "Caroline, your ladies will arrive in the morning, soon after the servants. I do believe your family is coming to announce their return to Pert, as well. Conde, your father will come the next day."

"Why isn't he coming tomorrow?" I ask, stupidly.

"Your father," Louis tells me, pulling me close to him. Of course it's my father's fault Charles won't see his son tomorrow.

"I'll see the two of you soon?" Francis wonders.

"Of course. Thank you, again. From both of us," Louis says. I'm thankful he spoke for both of us, I hardly have enough energy to wave. Louis leads me to the front door. I somehow am still having trouble seeing in the dark. Louis must spend so much time in it, for I swear he can see perfectly at this point. He pushes open the door to reveal a huge, dark foyer. I barely see the outline of two spiral staircases mirroring one another. I yelp when Louis picks me up.

"Sorry," he smiles, "Figured I should carry my wife over the threshold. Even if she can't see it." I giggle, and he steps into our new home. I haven't had any time to think about whether or not we'll live here or in Pert, but as soon as Louis puts me down, I know. I'll live here forever. I don't care about the law. I'll give my brother my crown before I leave this place, and I haven't even seen it. Louis lights a candle, and only confirms my feelings. He sees me marveling at the room, and comes to stand next to me.

"We can explore in the morning," he assures me, "Mary said our bedroom is up the stairs and in the West." I nod, and we walk, arms linked, up the stairs. As soon as we enter the bedroom, I am both fascinated by the detailed beauty and overtaken by exhaustion. Without thinking, I slip out of my clothes and lay them over the back of the chair. I turn to Louis, and notice him staring. My whole body turns red with embarrassment. I quickly go to and climb into our large bed. Louis follows suit, stripping and lying next to me.

* * *

Yay, another long one! R&amp;R, lovelies!:)


	5. Chapter 5: Hello, Goodbye

Ch.5: Hello, Goodbye

"Good morning, gorgeous," is the first thing I hear when I open my eyes. Louis, already dressed, has his chin on my stomach, staring up at me.

"Good morning," I return, we both sit up.

"The servants arrived early this morning, they're down making lunch," he says.

"Lunch!?" I exclaim, "How long did I sleep?"

"It's around noon," Louis tells me, "It's alright, you were tired. Get up, I want to show you the house!" I do as he asks, sliding out of bed and into a loose gown. I'm thankful to have my own home, now, where nobody can tell me to put on a corset or that I have to wear my hair up. I'm testing the waters of freedom for the first time, and I love it.

"You're going to love this place, it's so beautiful!" Louis shouts, pulling me out the bedroom door. We visit each room in the house, each as stunning as the next. We stop for a moment in what will become my favorite room, the library. Stacked two stories high with books from all around the world, I want to live in this room. Louis pulls me along to the front of the house.

"Whoa..." I breathe. I was wrong. It's literally a small castle, "This place is perfect."

"You haven't seen the half of it. Next time you're up in the bedroom, you can look at the vineyard from our balcony. It's heavenly," he informs me. We hear a carriage pull up nearby, "I think that's your ladies," I look at him, gauging whether I should leave him to see my friends, but he smiles, "Go ahead." I meet my ladies at the carriage. They all curtsy to me quickly, before gazing upon my new home.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" I ask, staring with them.

"It's amazing," Marie exhales.

"Come on," I say, "I'll give you the grand tour." I lead them through the whole house, and with each room feel their admiration grow. Finally, I stop to show them the guest quarters, and allow them to go. I meet my husband in the small, family dining room. He smiles to see me.

"Hello, love. Did the ladies like the house?"

"Oh, they're in awe of it," I answer him.

"You know, they can stay as long as they like."

"Louis, you don't have to-"

"I want to, Caroline," he cuts me off, "This place is much too large for the two of us. Even when we start having children, it will still be excessive. Besides, you grew up with these women. I won't separate you."

"Thank you, Louis. But what about when they get married? Marie is seeing a castle guard, and I've noticed that Jeanne has eyes for one of the nobles. Leave it to that girl to marry up."

"Then we allow them one of the guest houses, if they wish. They're plenty big enough for families."

"Alright. I'll tell them when I see them again. Thank you," I smile at him.

"It's a pleasure to make you happy. I do have a single request, though."

"What is it?"

"You see, my father has lived alone for some time now. Since my mother died when I was young. He has recently taken in my nephew, a boy of only 8, due to my brother's death. His name is Henry..." he trailed.

"The boy can live here, as can your father," I tell him. He smiles thankfully. We sit together, talking aimlessly about the future, until a servant interrupts.

"My Lord, My Lady," Isabelle curtsies.

"Isabelle! I didn't know you were here," I wander to her.

"Yes, Princess. The King asked if any of us wanted to work for you and your husband, and I told him that my family and I would. There are only six of us, but I like it better than not knowing whether or not my sisters are safe." I knew she was alluding to the number of Protestant attacks on the nobility lately. Servants are seen as collateral damage. Any way to up the body count makes the terrorists feel powerful.

"Call me, Caroline, Isabelle, please. I'd love to meet your family."

"It would be an honor for us," she thanks me, "Anyway, I came to tell you that your father's carriage is about a mile away."

"Thank you, Isabelle. Could you go check on my ladies? I'd like to speak with them."

"Of course, my lady," and she curtsies and leaves. I turn to my husband.

"I hope you aren't too upset that my father will be here," I start, "I promise they won't stay long."

"I know," he looks at me, worried, "I received a note this morning. Your family won't stay past the day, save your eldest brother, who will spend the summer so he can be tutored. Your youngest brother went to Pert right after the wedding. Something happened with the woman he's been seeing."

"Is she alright?" I ask.

"I don't know, I was just told something had happened," he replied, as the front door was pulled open and I heard my parents' bickering.

"Some castle," my father announced indiscreetly, "I gave him my daughter, the least he could do is give me some sizable properties."

"You're forgetting one thing, Earl, this isn't your property. And you know it was a gift from the King," she reminds him. Louis and I greet them at the door.

"Mother, Father," I bow my head at them, and then look to my eldest brother, still two years my junior, "William!" we hug, "How is James? Is Victoria alright?"

"She's fine, but she has fallen pregnant," he fills me in.

"God, she's only 14!" I exclaim.

"That's plenty old enough Caroline," my father looks at me as if my presence is enough to make him sick, "If you can get pregnant, you can have a child. Of course, they'll have to be married immediately-"

"Father, they are children," I cut him off.

"And? They have sinned, and I will not allow it. I will not be the grandfather of a known bastard. They will wed before it is known that she has conceived. Where are your servants?" he demands, "My horses need water. Your mother and I are only staying for a moment."

"Isabelle, can someone water the horses quickly?" I ask politely.

"Yes, of course, Caroline," she says, bowing out.

"Allowing your servants to call you by your first name," my father scans me, offended, "I'm parched. I want wine," he demands to the nearest servant, whom I believe is Isabelle's brother. He almost responds to my father's command, and I suddenly feel a power trip coming on.

"Wait," I say to the servant, "What's your name?"

"Cedric, my lady," he answers swiftly, avoiding my eyes.

"Please, see that the horses are properly saddled and their thirst is quenched, and put two bottles of our cheapest wine in the carriage," I say to him. He smiles and goes to do his job.

"What are you doing?" my father asks.

"Something that should have been done a long time ago," I tell him, and begin my list of grievances, finishing with: "you are a terrible father, and an even worse King. I live for the day your reign ends, and we can restore our country to it's former glory without your tainted legacy."

"Oh, sweetest Caroline," he condescendingly kisses my forehead, and I wince, "I will burn that country to the ground before I allow you to rule."

"Then you had better find your matches quickly, because your time is limited," I retort without missing a beat. Pale from the shock of my standing up to him, he tries to hold his ground.

"Do you threaten the King?"

"No," I say quickly, "A threat is not a guarantee. I promise, that your days will soon crawl to a slow, painful end." At this, my father's confident posture falters. I'd found his weakness. He can't stand not being in control.

"I suppose we should be going, then," he tells me, a lump rising in his throat. He leads my mother to the door.

"Wait!" Louis shouts. I look to him, confused. I pray he won't give my father a reason to stay, "Your other son, James, and his child's mother. They will come to stay with Caroline and I. If they so wish, they may wed, but will not be forced. And they will not be embarrassed about having a child if they choose not to wed." I look up at him, proudly, and notice my ladies standing on the stairs behind us.

"They most certainly will not!" he belts, turning red.

"But they will," Louis says calmly, "Because the King of France is my cousin, and owes me a great debt, and France is much more powerful than Pert. Just think about it. I have your trade routes cut off, your people live in greater poverty than they do now, they revolt, and you lose your head. All because you were too proud to allow your son a chance at childhood. Pity."

"They will arrive within the week," my mother answers for my father. He's too disgusted with our outburst to say a thing. They walk quickly and silently out the door, and the carriage is moving within a minute. I hear all of the people in the room exhale at once when they finally leave. We all held our breath, fearing my father. After all, he is a King, even if his countrymen live in squalor. Louis and I turn to my ladies.

"I want you ladies to know that you are free to live with us if you please. Should you wed or decide to leave us, we will offer you one of our guest houses if you please. All we ask is that you treat each person in this house with respect, including the servants." My pride for my husband seems to grow by the second. They each nod, relaxed.

"Prince Conde," Cedric returns, and bows, "would you like me to send for your father and nephew?"

"Yes, please, Cedric," he nods, and Cedric ducks out of the room again.

* * *

The next few weeks go uneventfully. Charles and Henry move in, then just two days later we welcome my brother James and his Victoria into our home. Strangely, it's as if the whole household is just a large family. The servants, Isabelle and Cedric, along with their mother, Yvette, two younger sisters, Phoebe and Leah, and Cedric's wife, Candace, are welcomed to be as comfortable around us as they are one another.

I haven't yet told anybody, but I suspect our clan is about to grow.

* * *

Historical inaccuracies abound! Hope you guys are still digging it. R&amp;R! If you have any questions about the details, feel free to PM me. Chances are, I've thought about it. :) Happy Holidays! (P.S. I think Ch.6 is gonna be a Christmas chapter. I'm feelin' the spirit.)


	6. Chapter 6: Daddy Issues

Ch.6: Merry Christmas

"Hm...can we pull it just the tiniest bit to the left?" I request. Cedric, James, and William surprised us by going to cut down our own Christmas tree. It really is beautiful, and big. We'll have to stand on the stairs to reach the top, "Wait, right there!" They stop the tree where it is, "It's perfect." We spend the next few hours decorating it with pieces of cloth and fabric. When we finish, Louis stands at the top of the steps and places a wooden star that he bought in town on top. He comes down so we can all look at our beautiful tree. Standing behind me, he wraps his arms around my waist.

"Beautiful," he whispers.

"It is."

"I wasn't talking about the tree."

Louis sits on a chair, while I sit at a writing desk in the library. "I swear I've forgotten somebody!"

"Just read through the list again," he tells me.

"Louis, Cedric and Candace, Isabelle, Yvette, Phoebe and Leah, William, James and Victoria, Alice, Marie, Jeanne, Charles, and Henry. Did I miss any?"

"I don't think so," he assures me, "Even if you did, I'm sure nobody will be too terribly offended that they didn't get a gift from you. There are enough bodies in this house for a small village. They understand that you can't remember every single one." I sigh. He's right. I need to calm down. It's not good for me to be so stressed out. I smile, thinking about Louis's gift. I already have it stashed away behind some books. I can't wait to see the look on his face when he takes off the red ribbon, opens the small brown box, and sees only a silver rattle inside.

* * *

We've been visited quite a lot by Francis and Mary lately. Francis fears for Mary's safety at Court. The attacks have only worsened. Mary writes me letters, because she doesn't want Francis to know that she is just as scared.

_ Caroline,_

_I know that we've come to your home quite often in recent weeks, and I'd like to apologize for our frequent intrusion. When all of this started, and Francis would try to pull me away from the violence, I'd refuse. I assumed it would blow over. It's gotten worse, and I fear for not only my safety, but that of my husband and his young siblings. I even worry for his mother, Catherine, who has never spared me a second of being in her good graces._

_I wish I knew how to calm the masses. Francis and I have both given many public speeches supporting the Protestant cause alongside the Catholic. I ask for your advice, as you have so many different denominations living peacefully under your roof. Your Protestant husband and father-in-law, Catholic servants, your youngest brother and his lover, along with yourself and two of your ladies don't identify with any religion, while William practices Paganism, you all get along as if religion is just a fact of life. You respect the ideals of your companions no matter how vehemently you disagree._

_How am I to make my subjects behave similarly as your household? I want freedom for all of my people. I want to stop learning of the violent deaths of my countrymen brought on by their religion. I know it is much to ask of you, but I would very much appreciate the effort if you could deliver a speech to the Court on the eve of Christmas, detailing your household and how benevolent it is. Maybe this will make the people see. They don't have to raise themselves by cutting down others. Even if your presentation doesn't convince all of them, we only need a few. A few people who will stand and acknowledge that violence must overtaken by acceptance is all it will take, and the others will follow suit. If you can convince just one powerful noble to take a stand, the country may be saved. My head and my husband's head may be saved._

_I look forward to seeing you and yours tomorrow. Francis will not be joining me, as he has a conference with the nobility. I'll ride in just after breakfast._

_ Mary_

Francis and Mary will also be joining us at Christmas, along with all of Francis's siblings and their mother. I believe Francis's half-brother and his wife will come, as well. I should get them gifts, too. I'll have to ride into town soon.

"What are you doing down here at this hour, Caroline?" Louis asks, sleepily.

"Sorry, I was just reading," I tell him.

"It's fine. I was just worried when you didn't come to bed. Please, come up soon," he requests lovingly.

"Of course, love. Just a moment," I nod. He disappears. I read through the letter again before stashing it in an old book nobody will bother to open, and go up to bed. I lie next to my husband, who affectionately embraces me in his sleep. But I can't sleep. I stare at the ceiling, overthinking. I have an opportunity that could potentially save all of France, but I may well be too much of a coward to take it. Eventually, I doze off into a nightmare-filled sleep.

* * *

I sit at the large dining table, surrounded by my fifteen eating housemates, who all look at me, concerned. Louis strokes my hand on the table.

"Caroline, are you sure you're alright?" Yvette asks in a motherly tone.

"I'm fine," I assure them all, "Just having trouble sleeping." This seems to be a good enough answer for them, as they continue eating, only glancing at me occasionally. After we eat, I retire to the library. I sit in a window seat, watching the falling snow, when a conversation erupts in the hall.

"I'm just worried," Louis says, "She's losing so much weight, she hardly eats, she tosses and turns all night..." I hadn't noticed any of these things. I'd been too preoccupied with everybody else. I tune out the exchange, and vow to fill my stomach at lunch and dinner, so everybody will stop worrying. Besides, I need to be gaining weight to keep us healthy. Isabelle comes in and cuts through my thoughts.

"Caroline, the Queen is here," she tells me.

"Will you send her in here, please?" I ask. She pats my leg, and smiles, unsure. Soon, Mary sits across from me.

"Dear God, Caroline, what's happened to you?" she asks.

"I'm pregnant," I say blankly.

"Well, congratulations, but you should look a bit less skeletal if you intend to have a healthy child."

"I know..." I trail off, "I want to give the speech on Christmas Eve."

"Oh, Caroline, thank you!"

* * *

At the next two meals, I eat as much as I can. This seems to reassure my housemates. It does make me feel better. I feel less depressed than I did earlier, as well. Before it gets dark, Mary leaves us to return home.

The next days pass uneventfully. I start gaining my weight back, the space beneath the Christmas tree becomes full with beautifully wrapped boxes. My family stops worrying, and I'm back to my old self. I practice my speech about a thousand times, and spend the whole day preparing on Christmas Eve to give it. I find my most sophisticated gown, a dark green one with a flowing A-line skirt. I add simple black shoes and a necklace of pearls. I wear my hair in an elegant chignon. Finally, I put on a furry cloak, and steal away into the night without saying where I've gone. Mary and Francis meet me at the door.

"Caroline, I didn't know you were with child, congratulations," Francis tells me.

"Thank you," I smile.

"You really are radiant, Caroline," Mary confirms. I nod in thanks, "And you're starting to show beautifully." Normally I would avoid wearing fitted clothes so that nobody around my home would notice, as I wanted it to be a surprise. "Are you ready? The Nobles await."

"I am," I say. Francis takes my coat and hands it to a servant. We walk to the room where they wait for me. All of them are stunned to see me, for I'm not a member of French Court. Francis and Mary calm them, and I take my place in the front of the room, at the top of a short staircase leading to the thrones. Francis and Mary take their places behind me. I begin.

"Hello. I do believe most of you recognize me, but for those who do not: I am Princess Caroline Conde. I was born in Pert, it's a small country just outside of France. It was beautiful once. There was lush greenery, we had acres upon acres of trees. Whenever you cut a tree, you planted two. If you didn't have an excellent home, you at least had a functional one with a warm bed, even the poorest of citizens. Our people were healthy, no man, woman or child went hungry. Each and every child was educated, regardless of nationality, religion, gender, until the age of 15. At this point, they could do as they pleased with their lives, as long as they weren't hurting anybody.

"I never got to see this side of my country. I was born two years after my mother and father wed. One month after the wedding, their coronation took place. My mother was born into our royal lineage, but my father would never be more than a Duke, unless he married in. It's a little known secret that the reason my parents were rushed into the kingship so quickly was because my father assassinated my grandfather. As my mother only had older sisters, and none were yet married, she became the immediate heir. My mother knew nothing of this. She was still convinced my father was a good man.

"Power makes man greedy. A greedy man will run a beautiful country into the ground if it so fulfills his greed. Within the 23 months between my father's coronation as King of Pert and my birth, he had killed my country. He had cut down all of the forests to sell the lumber, he stopped feeding the people, he enforced a curfew. Malnutrition and disease spread. When I was four, the First Rebellion began. What my father never told anybody was that he caused it. I remember it vividly. A man and his wife brought their eight children to my parents. All he asked was that my father do something to stop the bandits harassing his family. They burnt what was left of his crops, destroyed their home, murdered his eldest two children. My mother wanted to help them. She still remembered what a great land Pert once was. My father thought differently. He stood and unsheathed the sword of the nearest guard. Within moments, the floor was bloodied and littered with the bodies of a family. Children died that day by the hand of my father.

"The country people heard. Within days, there had been several assassination attempts of my father. Even my mother tried to kill him, but he just wouldn't die. The 'war' lasted only two weeks. In that two weeks, my father ordered the death of every person that came within a mile of our castle who didn't work or live there. Then, when it was over, he ordered the roundup of the men he said were the perpetrators. Anything could have you accused. My father had one man drawn and quartered because he said his red hair made him a natural deceiver, and that he had to have something to do with it.

"My father still rules over those who remain. If you're caught fleeing, you're hanged. If you speak badly of him, you are lain upon a bed of wooden spikes until you die of blood loss. Execution is a merciful punishment in my country. If you commit the crime of being related to a criminal, you have a few options. If you're a woman over 12, you're sold into servitude. All boys and men are forced to work in the plantations that my father keeps alive so that the castle residents may eat. Girls beneath 12 are usually drowned. If a man can't work, he's locked away until he starves to death.

"All of this hardship comes from a man who wanted too much. I'm sure that at some point in his life, my father was pure and gentle. But his drive for power betrayed him. He betrayed his people and his family.

"I see that you wonder what any of this has to with France. Your country is undergoing a power struggle between religions as we speak. Nobody will win this. Yes, there will be a perceived endpoint. One side will persevere, deeming the others weak and criminal. The losing men will probably be executed for crimes against the Crown, whether that be Francis and Mary or another figurehead, or they'll be killed for worshiping wrongly. All will be well for a year or two, maybe longer.

"At some point, you will begin to realize what you've done. Your people will go hungry, because you killed all of your farmers. Those who still live will be unwilling to help you because you killed their brethren. You'll respond by killing them. You will have no farmers. You will say to yourself, 'how hard can it be?' You'll try to plant on your own. You will fail. You know nothing of crop rotation or fertilization. Your people will continue to starve.

"After your great religious war, you will be weak. Your enemies will see this and take advantage. But you executed half of your army. A fourth died along the way due to religious persecutions and hate crimes. You have one fourth of your army to defend yourself. But those men are tired. They want to be with their families. Some will desert. An honorable few will remain to fight. You will still lose, because honor doesn't win wars, men do.

"Your country will slowly collapse into the greedy hands of another. They will mold your land and your people into their land and their people. Assuming this new ruler is generous. He could well just kill your people and burn your lands. Imagine if a man such as my father took advantage of your weakness. Imagine a once-great world power, torn apart because some men were too proud of their own religion to allow other men to practice any differently than they.

"The faiths may live in peace. My own household of sixteen people represents Catholicism, Protestantism, Paganism, and those of us who choose not to identify. There has not been a single day that is less than peaceful in our home. We respect that all men, and even women, have been given equal rights no matter how they choose to worship. France may yet survive. It isn't too late. Catholics, turn to your Protestant brothers. Make them aware that you respect them. Protestants, admit to your Catholic comrades that you do not want to die for this. All of us must allow one another basic freedoms, or we risk the loss of something as sacred and divine as our country."

Momentarily, there is absolute silence as every eye in the room trains heavily on me. I see the guards inconspicuously ready themselves to protect their King and Queen. I assume Francis motioned for this, in case there happened to be a need for it. I jump as one of the Nobles stands, but there is no other movement. He stares directly at me for a moment, then speaks softly, but confidently.

"All in favor of ending the persecutions of differing religious sects, raise a hand."

And nothing happened.

And everything happened.

As if in a wave, one by one, hand after powerful hand shot into the air. I heard Francis and Mary behind me, happily chattering. Soon, I was flanked by the two of them. Smiling and watching their noble friends. The atmosphere of the room has changed. Men who once sat on opposite sides of the room now hug and shake hands. Women who once sat stone-faced, awaiting their husbands' decisions to leave, now stand in circles of other women, praising their hair and gowns, no longer ostracizing one another due to their preferred method of spirituality.

"Please, silence! Just for a moment," Francis raised his hands happily, "We have clearly convinced at least most of you that France can be united and still worship separately. This is a large step for us. The people will see your tolerance and many will follow suit, but I fear it isn't enough. We have our work cut out for us in convincing the people. I have allowed this disorder to go on for much too long, and it must be halted. Thank you for listening and for understanding. Please, celebrate!"

Francis, Mary, and I leave the noisy room, and I get my cloak. Just before I leave, Francis stops me.

"Caroline, there's something you have to see," he tells me. Mary looks upset and apologetic. They lead me through the castle and down into the dungeon.

"Why do I need to be in the dungeon?" I ask. Francis gives me the same sorry look Mary did, and I grow concerned. Then I realize, it must be somebody I know. But who? We stop in front of a cell with a guard on either side. Inside sits an old man. He's aged suddenly, falsely. Probably from the stress of being caught. His feeble face and decrepit body betray his young age.

"Father, what have you done?"

* * *

Okay, yeah, Earl is in trouble. Who'da thunk it? R&amp;R, lovelies. You're beautiful. Happy holidays!:)


	7. Author's Note

Hey, guys. I know I've been kind of MIA, sorry. Just wanted to pop in to let any readers who haven't lost faith that I have NOT abandoned this fic. I lost my notes and when I found them, I didn't like where it was going. I don't feel like some of my chapters are up to par with the others, so I'm rewriting. I should have re-uploaded all the chapters I have so far by the end of the month so I can finish the story out on a high note. Thanks for hanging out, and sorry that it looks like I gave up. You guys are the best. :)


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